Home Again
by siss7
Summary: Six months after landing on Earth, "all the king's horses and all the king's men, were still trying to put Mark Watney back together again"
1. Just Begin

A/N- This is my first story in this fandom. I have idea's for a few other chapters. The premise is from the time Mark lands back on earth to the end of the movie. He was far too well adjusted at the end of the movie. I hope you enjoy and review. This story rated because of language. Mark had one...

Mark Watney landed on Earth three days before Christmas 2037, nearly three years since he'd left the Blue planet and went to Mars.

Along with the five other members of his crew, he'd been taken to the hospital and hours later, under security, reunited with his parents. His mother let him cry just the way he had when he was a child and an experiment failed or something blew up. It was, without question, the best present the woman had ever received. In the subsequent days and months, he'd been evaluated, re-evaluated and finally, a team of very smart eggheads agreed that there were no traces of Mars cooties, he was released.

Six weeks later, all the king's horses and all the king's men were still trying to put Mark back together again.

They agreed he'd never be the same and could still be at risk for several side effects from starvation. Nightmares plagued him. He had an official diagnosis of PTSD. He couldn't live in Chicago because it was the windy city and wind was a trigger, but so were potatoes. So, his parents moved to Houston to be near him when they figured out that wind was a trigger.

After leaving the hospital, he'd agreed to one primetime TV interview where he thanked everyone for their tireless effort to bring him home and answered the reporter's stupid questions.

Then, he'd gone on vacation. He figured he deserved it after his little trip to Mars. It had even been signed off by his psychologist, justifying it as necessary. So he and his parents went someplace that was least like the red planet, Bora Bora.

While he was still on Mars, he looked forward to his daily data dump. It made him feel connected to something, kept him rooted in reality. But there was one email that he'd gotten early on that he thought about and gave him hope in his darkest moments.

It read:

 _Dear Shithead,_

 _Seriously, you of all people…Mars doesn't stand a chance._

 _I'm not going to send you empty platitudes, mostly because you've already reached for the fucking stars. Instead, I'll just tell you to keep doing what you're doing._

 _You are uniquely qualified to handle this. You're a damned astronaut…your dream job… you'd never shut up about that crap. NASA didn't pick the nerdy botanist SOB because he looked good on their poster. So give Mars some Watney (that's what she said)._

 _You'll be happy to know I started a few hashtags in your honor #donttellwatneyaboutmarstellmarsaboutwatney. I mean it's a little long, but it's the sentiment I'm going for. I've also got #Watneystrong. I knew you'd appreciate that. #botanypower is another hashtag going around the interwebs. #ifwatneycandoitsocanyou is my favorite. If only your fan base knew what a dweeb you were._

 _When you get home, you can buy me a beer and we can commiserate over the suck fest that is my marriage and other crap. Spoiler alert: she got the house, so you'd better call me when you get home. Coincidentally, I wish she'd been left on Mars._

 _A real medical Doctor,_

 _DR. Jimmy_

When Mark was was a freshman at the University of Chicago, he met Jimmy Morrin. He came to the University as an army medic and just back from Afghanistan. He was pre-med. Future botanists take a lot of biology classes so they took a lot of same classes. Jimmy wanted letters behind his name and he made sure to tell Mark that medical doctors get letters before and after their every chance he got..

Jimmy was his fun friend, or at least the University of Chicago version of fun. All the stories he didn't want to tell his parents had Jimmy in them. Mark was the best man at his wedding, and after his parents, he was the first person Mark called after he found out he had been chosen to go to Mars with the Ares III mission.

So now he stood at his apartment door, ready to take him out to that beer that he'd looked forward to from Millions of miles away.

"So," Jimmy said sitting down at the bar, "You look…" he eyed him up and down, "like…"

"…I didn't starve," Mark supplied, a grin played on lips.

"Well, that," Jimmy said with a chuckle.

"Your hashtags were great."

"I thought you'd appreciate them."

"What's going on with you and Jean?" Mark changed the subject.

"She cheated," he answered.

"Seriously?"

"Yep, I found out just after you left. Then…" Jimmy paused.

"What?" Mark asked, see the change in his friend.

"Then…" he spoke again. "My pop died…." He took a deep breath. "Then she served me papers and then… it came back…"

"Jesus Christ! What came back…?" Mark stopped, "Cancer?"

"Fucking Cancer," they said in unison.

"My yearly scans picked up cancer on my liver, stage 4. It's aggressive"

"Well, fuck. I thought I had it bad… but you're in remission again? You look good…"

"I'm not in remission, Mark," Jimmy answered flatly. "I've got six months to a year. I've stopped my practice, given over my research projects to Dr. Lynn, I've even stopped teaching."

"But you have a year," Mark argued, his mouth agape with shock. "Isn't there a treatment you can try? You're just giving up?"

"I'm not giving up. I'm just going to live out my days under my terms."

"You've spent your entire career trying to cure cancer…"

"Only to get cancer…. But I knew I had the gene twenty years ago," he paused. "The irony isn't lost on me."

A silence fell over the two men.

"You know," Mark said. "I missed the taste of beer. I had a few days where I would have loved to come inside after a long day of work and have a nice beer."

"Speaking of things on Mars…"

"Fuck Mars," Mark scoffed.

"That's funny coming from you, ."

"Ha! Funny, I haven't heard that one. I had to grow food if I wanted to come home. Now NASA wants to know all about it. Plus, there's the research I did while on Mars that I still have to write-up."

"What's the problem? You grew potatoes on Mars, that's pretty fucking amazing."

"I was there, and it was cool," he paused. "But not yet, I'm not ready to talk to more than just my therapist."

"Why the hell not? Did you not record your findings?"

"No, I recorded everything. NASA has my logs. I made it simple for anyone to figure out in case something happened."

"Then what? What is stopping you from declaring your scientific supremacy over all humans."

"I…I…I just," he paused. "I still have some stuff to work out…" Mark was interrupted by a beeping monitor, he looked at it and quickly ordered a glass of water from the bar waitress.

"What's wrong?" Jimmy asked.

"I have to wear this monitor," he said shutting it off and showing it to him.

"Are they worried about diabetes," he asked when seeing the glucose setting.

"Among other things. I gained back some of the weight on the way back, but they still want me to gain more."

"So you can eat anything you want?"

"Yep."

"That's a good problem to have," a silence fell over them again, both men in thought.

"Did you ever lose a science fair?" Jimmy broke the silence.

"Once, in seventh grade. A girl did a DNA project on unsuspecting men to see if they were her father."

"Well, huh," Jimmy nearly choked on his beer. "Nothing like some human drama. Who's your daddy? "You know," Jimmy started after a long silence, " This could just be the words of a dying man. But in my estimation, you're probably dealing with things that no other human on the planet has dealt with. There'll be studies written by you and about you for years."

"No shit," Mark nearly choked on his beer. "What's your point, Morrin?"

"Science isn't going to help me. I've reached the end of what modern science is able to do. I have enough time left on this earth to enjoy my last days. But you, you made it back, when you should have died. You've experienced something no other human has, and as a scientist, you have an obligation to help your fellow man."

Mark played with his beer label. "It's not that easy."

"I don't doubt that, but for now, you just need to begin."


	2. Kryptonite

Superman had his Kryptonite, while Mark had Lauren Watney, his ex-wife.

He would always love her, apparently; a fact that neither time nor Mars could erase.

Mark awoke with a start from a dream and turned over in bed, bumping into the figure next to him. "Fuck." Just over Lauren's bare shoulder, he noticed it was almost 8 AM and he needed to leave for his doctor's appointment.

Lauren had called him the afternoon before, asking him to have dinner with her.

He hadn't wanted to see her, but Lauren seemed to be able to get Mark to do just about anything. And so, when he got to the hotel restaurant, they'd had dinner and a few drinks.

They'd talked, caught up, mostly about mutual friends, both careful not to mention anything that would start a fight. She mentioned she was in town for just one night. Then she'd given him back the heirloom wedding ring that she'd refused to give back in the divorce.

He had blindly hoped that she would eventually have no use for the ring. However, he'd underestimated her and when they signed the final papers, she still didn't return the ring.

The final divorce settlement had been signed six months before he left for Mars, although by then they had been legally separated for nearly five years because of Mark's post-doctoral work with the Peace Corps.

He had thanked her for finally giving him back the ring, and the next thing he knew, they were kissing and making their way up to her room. That part of their relationship had always been good. Even now, after being legally divorced for five years and separated for ten, that part still worked.

"Where are you going?" she asked when she opened her eyes. He was rushing around looking for clothes.

"Doctor's appointment," he answered, quickly dressing. "And my ride is almost here," he said, checking his phone. "Because I can drive a rover across Mars, but on Earth, I'm not a licensed driver."

"I rented a car. I could take you."

"No, I'm good. But thank you," he put his watch on, summoning the courage to ask the question that had been hanging in the air since she called him two days before. "Why…why now? he asked. "This is all I wanted," he picked up the ring box and put it in his pocket. "After all of the fighting we did, why now?"

"I told you last night, I just thought you should have it back," she answered simply.

"I don't believe that for one minute," Mark argued.

"Adam asked me to marry him," she admitted, unable to look him in the eye.

"And you were here with me last tonight," he mumbled. "Great way to start a marriage."

"We both had loose ends we needed to tie up."

"And I was a loose end?"

"And," she continued. "I just…I wanted to see you for myself, to know that you're good after your ordeal."

"I'm fine. I'm here. I'm a lab rat at the moment, but I'm here."

Tears came to her eyes. "I watched the live feed of your rescue; a lot of people did. The world stopped for you, and… what was the experience like for you?"

"Look, I don't really want to relive it with you, or anyone, really, except my psychologist, but only because she is paid by NASA to make me talk. You signed that away when you hopped into bed with a guy who was not me, your husband."

"I know, Mark…you aren't a saint either. Because I remember a husband who'd spend days in a lab, or decided arbitrarily he didn't want kids and failed to communicate that with his wife. Or what about when you signed your life away to the Peace Corps to avoid signing divorce papers? You're always so quick to point out my mistakes," she paused, before speaking calmly, "but none of that means that I don't care about a man I've known and loved for the better part of two decades."

"First off, I did not run off to the Peace Corps to avoid the divorce, I went into the Peace Corps because it was a good opportunity and quite frankly, our divorce and setting you free was the least of my worries."

"Whatever you want to call it," she shot back.

"You know what? Our marriage was over the day I caught you in bed with someone else, and yet I still tried to make it work. Right now, though, I don't have time for all this, because I have a doctor's appointment in an hour and I have to bring up this constant heartburn, which is likely to cause a few meetings at NASA. So… just… I need to go," he opened the door. "Thank you for my grandmother's ring," he said before shutting the door.

He had thought he had been making up the heartburn excuse so he didn't have to talk to her anymore. Unfortunately, it hadn't been a lie, because the NASA doctor pressed on his stomach and had him transported to St. John's for immediate admittance.

"Seriously, you two? I thought I could get some privacy checking in here," he asked Rick Martinez and Chris Beck, his two former crewmates and best friends when they walked into Mark's room.

"Your mom called and said you were here because they were worried about cancer," Beck answered. "She figured since I saw you through getting home, I could magically heal you."

"And having your back _is_ kinda our thing," Martinez said.

"You don't have to be here, seriously. I mentioned the heartburn and it caused widespread panic. I'm sure a team is assembling now as we speak. They'll want a full workup and then send me home, but not before adding a new medication and recommending another vacation."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Beck said after picking up Mark's file. "Your doctor says he pressed on your wound site and thought that he felt what could be scar tissue, which requires emergency surgery. It also says you were unusually stressed when you initially came in for a routine appointment."

"Stress, ex-wife, same fucking thing," Mark blurted out.

Beck and Martinez exchanged a look. The obvious question hung in the air.

"She gave me back the ring," he said.

"'Bout damn time," Martinez commented, well-versed in the soap opera. "Well hopefully she's back on her broom now ready to go back to her coven and you won't see her anymore."

"Oh, there's more to _this_ story," Beck said when Mark wouldn't look him in the eye.

"You hopped into bed with her," Martinez guessed when Mark still didn't answer.

"Hey Mark, what's the chemical process for photosynthesis?" Beck interrupted.

"Six H20 plus CO2 plus light energy turns into glucose C6H12O6 plus six O2," Mark answered without missing a beat.

"Why did you hop into bed with Lauren?" Beck fired back. "For fuck's sake Watney, you're the smartest dumb person I have ever met. Mars didn't kill you, but _she_ might."

"Exactly," Martinez said when Mark didn't answer.

"It's complicated," he mumbled.

"Complicated? Let me guess, she called you, wanted to have dinner, you tried to tell her 'no', but she manipulated the situation so you would have to see her. And she used the one thing you wanted from her against you…"

"I have the ring now, and I knew what she was doing when she called," Mark said. "And now I don't have to be reminded by my mother every time Lauren's name comes up how my grandmother died knowing 'that woman' was in possession of her ring. We were consenting adults."

"Great, now cut her out of your life completely. I don't understand the power she has over you, but it's time to Let. Her. Go".

"We'll need to clear the room," a doctor stepped in, interrupting Martinez.

Mark was still waiting for test results a few hours later. Martinez and Beck were in the waiting room along with former crewmates Melissa Lewis and Beth Johanssen and his parents, when another knock came at his door.

"Here to finish killing me?" he asked Lauren when she appeared at his bedside.

"Please don't start. I didn't come to fight."

"How did you even get in here?"

"I went through another door when I saw who was in the waiting room. I can't take your mother's disapproving stare or your father's low mumbling."

Mark raised an eyebrow.

"It is what it is, Mark. I know why they do it. You're not the most popular guy in my house either."

"What are you doing here?"

"You didn't let me finish this morning," she paused.

"What was there to finish?" he asked. "You breezed into my life, I somehow fell for what you were selling. I've been around that block and seen that tree before."

"Just, would you cut the smart ass comments for a minute? I came all the way to Houston for this and I'm leaving in a few hours. I should have just said it last night, instead, I'm doing it at your hospital bedside and..." she teared up.

"What," he said, straightening up and taking her hand.

She took a deep breath, "I'm going to marry Adam, for many reasons, the least of which is love. But before I do, I wanted you to know how truly I sorry I am for the way we ended. We were good together for a long time and then we weren't and it sucked, but we did have some really good years. I know I screwed it up and hurt you."

He looked at her, seeing the woman he'd married. The part of her that he fell in love with nearly two decades ago. The side that only he got to see.

They were opposites in every way, but even still, they had fallen into a blinding, all-consuming love affair. She was right. At one time, they had been blissfully happy.

"I don't regret any of it, except hurting you."

"Well," Mark sucked in a breath, "I wasn't the best husband. I should've told you I didn't want kids and I should have left work at work," Mark said. "But I loved you. I probably always will."

"And I will always love you, but we both know we don't work as husband and wife," she smiled sadly at him, letting go of his hand.

"I know," he agreed.

"Goodbye, Mark."

"Goodbye, Lauren."

She paused, lingering at the door.

"Promise me you'll find someone who makes you happy because I want you to be happy."


	3. Retirement

Mark was released from the hospital the next day.

It turned out that he had a bleeding ulcer.

He named it Lauren and filled the new prescription. He was told to cut unnecessary stress out of his life; he laughed when he got a text from Lauren that she was home in Chicago, his stress _was_ gone.

Since being released from the hospital, the crew members of Ares III hadn't strayed too far from Houston. Martinez and his wife bought a house in Houston, wanting to make it their permanent home and bought a house near NASA's headquarters. In the least surprising move possible, Beck had proposed to Johanssen and moved into his house on the outskirts of Houston. It also happened to be a perfect location for stargazing.

"It's time," Beck said looking at the clock.

The guys followed him onto the balcony with a telescope set up facing the night sky.

They were silent for a minute, all looking up at the sky.

"There," Mark spotted it first. "That's Hermes." He went to the telescope and zeroed in on their former spacecraft. "She looks so much better from this distance."

For the next hour, they took turns looking through the telescope and enjoying the night sky. It was a beautiful spring night, perfect for stargazing.

"So resigning from the Astronaut program was really your idea?" Martinez asked.

"Yep."

"Why? Why would you just walk away from what you've worked for your entire life?"

"I'm just not going into space again. Next week, when you guys are in the Buoyancy Lab or the T-38, you'll be training to eventually be named for another mission. If I don't keep up with the necessary training, then I can't be a NASA astronaut."

"I get that, but you're just gonna walk away from NASA? And do what? Take some cushy professor job? You'll be bored in a week."

"Maybe a cushy teaching position is exactly what I want after what I've been through."

"Bullshit," Back and Martinez said in unison.

Mark let a smile play on his lips, "You never know, I'd look good in tweed."

"No, you wouldn't."

"To answer your question, don't listen to rumors."

"Then what's going on?" Martinez asked.

"I'm not going into space," he repeated. "Mostly my choice, but I'm not going to give NASA the chance to make the choice. So, therefore, I'm not training to be an astronaut; but I'm not leaving NASA. Not yet anyway."

"So then why all the pomp and circumstance?"

"The part that the media isn't reporting is that NASA currently has me under contract to finish all my research. I also have to appear before a Senate committee for NASA funding."

"So you still work for NASA, just not as an astronaut?"

"Exactly. Once my research is done, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. But for the moment, I'm doing my research at JSC. Annie showed me my office Friday, it has all the latest equipment. Plus, it means I'll be around to be your lab rat," he elbowed Beck.

"I appreciate that," Beck said. "I don't know anyone else who's been stuck on Mars, so you'll have to do."

"What about when all of this is complete?" Martinez asked.

"I'll worry about that when the time comes, but for now this is the plan."

"You really don't want to even try to go into space again?" Beck asked.

"Not if Earth was about to blow up and an escape pod appeared at my front door."

* * *

After he and Lauren separated, he didn't attempt a relationship. Mostly because when his dates found out about the estranged wife and ran the other way, telling him to call when the divorce papers were signed.

He did, however, have Karen Rhodes.

She had been the Mechanical Engineer on Ares I, a brilliant engineer and biologist, and the fifth human to set foot on Mars. To Mark, they were friends, and, occasionally, there had been some benefits involved.

There had been a time when they had both thought that they could be more than friends, but then Mark had been chosen to be a part of the Ares III crew. They made no promises to one another and decided they would talk about it when he returned.

"I heard you hung up the space helmet," Karen said, leaning up against the door of his new office. For an astronaut, she was considered a beauty queen. At just under the height limit for astronauts, she had long red hair and Mark often teased her that she looked like Pepper Potts.

"Hey, good to see you."

"Do you have time for lunch?" she asked.

"Uh," he said, not looking up from the microscope, "I probably should. Give me five minutes."

"I went to your favorite sandwich place and got you the pastrami with cheese, and Doritos."

"Thanks," he said, turning off the light that lit his counter.

"Rumor has it you're going to sue NASA for leaving you on Mars."

"That's funny, seeing as how NASA saved my life. Who are you hearing all this from?"

"Just office rumors."

Mark opened up the wrapper, "That's ridiculous," he grumbled. "Don't listen to rumors. NASA just gave me a fat check and called it 'Hazard pay'. Currently, I'm here currently as an independent researcher, but that could change."

"Oh?" Karen looked puzzled. "Why the big hoopla about your retirement and not working at NASA in the news, then?"

"Because CNN made a lot of money from selling my story and they want to make more. They don't know that I'm just retired on paper to check an HR box."

"I assume you're working on something about growing Martian potatoes."

"And soil reports. Plus, I'm still Beck's lab rat."

"Do you want me to put a stop to the rumors?"

"Nah, it's way more fun to see the look on people's faces when I walk into the dining hall."

Karen laughed, "I see your sense of humor is still intact. How are you...otherwise? How are you doing with all...that?"

Mark shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It is what it is. Dr. Shields helps where she can. It's just gonna take time. The nightmares suck, but they'll go away eventually."

"I'm sure," she cleared her throat. "You inspire a lot of people."

"So they say. I've seen some of the media stuff that went on."

"It wasn't just the stuff that went on in the media. It was here at JSC. You're determination and resourcefulness kept us going. A few of us would get together, you'd come up a lot…and we just…we were amazed at what you were doing."

Who?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Guess. "

"Janet?"

"Yep."

"Linnehan?"

"He'd be there from time to time."

"Rex, Barry, Cleave?"

"Yep to all, and so was Ken"

"Commander Walker did not care about me," Mark argued.

"He did! He respected what you were doing. He's an arrogant jackass, but he earned the right to be an arrogant jackass when he was the first man on Mars."

"He loved calling me 'the plant guy'."

Karen laughed, "I know you loved that."

"Yep, love that name."

"You know who else was there? John Baker."

Mark drew in a deep breath, "Ah shit, I'm sure _he_ was a barrel of laughs. Especially after I took over his MAV and canceled his mission."

"He'll get over it. He wasn't the commander, yet. Everyone said that it was going to be him though," she paused for a minute. "Maybe you should take him for a beer, though."

"Yeah, I owe a few people a beer. Everyone in China, for example."

"I'm glad you're home," she looked up at him and smiled.

"Thanks," His eye caught her left hand. "That's new," he said, pointing to the ring on her hand.

"I, uh, I met someone," she said, she looked sheepish. "His name is Tom, he works at McDermitt. We met just after you left."

"Good for you."

"I'm sorry," she looked up at him, her eyes brimming. "I thought it would be us, but then everyone thought you were dead and he just...he filled the holethat you left."

"Does he make you happy?"

"Very happy? He makes me laugh," she wiped the tear that fell from her eye.

"Then he's a lucky man," Mark wrapped his arms around her in an embrace. "And it would be smart of him to hang on to you."

"You should keep the last weekend in June open."

"I'll do that," he paused. "Does he know about us?"

"Yeah, but he doesn't care. He wasn't a saint before we met. We've been open with each other about our pasts."

"That's good," he looked at his watch. "I have a meeting with Annie and Venkat in about twenty minutes," he said.

"I'll let you go then," she paused. "Is it true you are testifying in next week's congressional hearings?"

"That's what this meeting is about."

"A lot of people are nervous about these hearings. Rumors are that Congress could pull funding which would effectively end manned space flight to Mars."

"I've heard, but when Congress approved funding for the Ares program, they knew deep space travel was inherently dangerous.

We all signed paperwork saying that we knew what we were getting into when we agreed to go on the mission."

"Do you think we should go back to Mars?"

"Yes," Mark didn't hesitate. "We still have a lot to learn."

"You make sure you tell them that. Because if Ares V makes it into orbit, it'll be because of your testimony."


	4. Hypothesis

This chapter had several versions...but this version got me to where I wanted to go with the story. Enjoy...I love reviews the way Mark Hates Potatoes. Also much love to my beta...she's awesome.

"Look, Senator Keisel, with all due respect, anytime a bomb isn't a bad idea, a lot of other good ideas failed. So, no I don't think we were destructive, as you say," Mark answered.

In the past, Mark might have lost his cool and called the Senator an idiot. However with CNN predicting the end of manned space flight to Mars, there was more pressure than usual, and Annie Montrose had threatened certain death if he did anything to embarrass NASA.

"However...do you have any better ideas?" he asked with the little hint of sarcasm.

Mark stood before the Joint Select Committee on Budget and Appropriations Process Reform for nearly two hours answering questions. All of NASA was watching the broadcast live on C-SPAN. Teddy Sanders and Venkat Kapoor sat in the back of the room along with his parents, who'd made the trip to Washington D.C. despite his protests that he "didn't need his mommy and daddy when he testified before Congress."

Earlier, the other crew members answered questions from the same committee, including Commander Lewis, who'd had a very nasty line of questioning from the same senator that was currently grilling Mark.

"I...I'm sorry...what?" the senator from Ohio asked.

"Do you have a better way for NASA to rescue me as I was floating off into space with a ship that had a rag canvass and no backup guidance system?"

"Well no, but I'm not a scientist or an astronaut."

"Neither did the scientists or astronauts on Earth or _Hermes_. Space travel is dangerous and there is no way to get around that fact. Despite the method, Commander Lewis made it possible for Dr. Beck to pull me out of the MAV and back to Hermes. The entire crew saved my life that day, for which I am grateful."

"Well if space travel is so dangerous, then why go to Mars and more importantly why should we the government continue to support traveling to Mars?"

"Because we keep making advancements in science."

"Is he doing okay?" Olivia Watney elbowed her husband from their seats in the balcony as they watched Mark.

"He's fine," Richard Watney whispered back. "I haven't seen him this serious since he defended his Doctorate."

Oh," she said, her eyes wide. "That's good. Hopefully, that means he won't call this idiot a name."

"No, he has you for that."

"And can you guarantee that NASA won't leave another astronaut on Mars, costing taxpayers billions?" The senator continued.

"No," Mark answered honestly, a hush fell over the crowd. "But no one can guarantee that even with all the disasters that are foreseeable. However, I'm sure some procedures will change to make it less likely."

"Like what?"

"That's a loaded question."

"How so?"

"Are you asking me to make a new policy for NASA?"

"This should be interesting," Richard mumbled to his wife.

"No kidding," Olivia answered back."He needs to stop playing with his tie."

"He's nervous and trying to hide it and it's a miracle to even to get him to wear one in the first place."

"Yes, I want to know how you would make an Ares Mission safer," the senator continued.

"I...well," Mark hesitated. "I'm usually better at breaking policy than making it."

"You're an engineer and an expert on surviving Mars."

"I have no authority to make changes, and I'm a research scientist specializing in Plant Biology and conservation."

"Well I am giving you authority," The senator looked at him pointedly. This was a test of some sort, he was looking for something from Mark. The truth was he'd thought about this a lot, both on and off Mars.

"Just off the top of my head," Mark paused, thinking quickly. "I would start with an anchor system for the MAV. Something that is controlled by the MAV and the HAB and anchored to the Rover."

"There would be policy changes regarding aborted missions," Mark continued. "I'm not sure about the specifics of those changes, just…" he paused, "Changes. It's also possible, maybe, depending on how the math works out, the Hermes could send a lifeboat of sorts. That would come with infinite questions."

He paused again, "I would have back-up independent communication systems to communicate with Earth. But even with all of that, none of that would have prevented my situation, senator. It would have stopped the stuff that happened afterward. I could have just met the Ares IV crew and gone home with them."

"So then why keep going? The planet has been explored."

"Not really. We've hardly begun," Mark argued back. "Our particular mission was aborted after six days. I completed most of the science experiments we were supposed to have done, along with some other experiments. However, a lot of that data is currently on Mars."

Mark paused, he'd been waiting for this moment patiently for a few weeks now. "I collected soil samples from every part of Mars I was on, including the Schiaparelli Crater. I have concluded the soil is rich in resources and minerals only found at the bottom of the deepest ocean on Earth. I couldn't put it under a microscope, and this hypothesis is based only on careful visual inspection. I believe the implications could be as big as when we discovered water on Hale Crater. Theoretical, we could build long-term structures on Mars. At this point, it's just a hypothesis, but it warrants further exploration."

"Mic drop, as Mark would say," he smiled the smile his wife had known for nearly fifty years, the same one Mark had when he knew something his parents didn't.

"You knew about this the whole time?"

"He told me last week."

"Why does he share all that stuff with you?"

Richard raised an eyebrow at his wife, "Because you brag about your "genius son the astronaut every chance you get."

"Well," she shot back. "I'm just proud of him."

"The last question," the congressmen said, "is your health and the health of other astronauts worth the trip?"

"Yes," Mark answered without hesitation. "We know what we're signing up for. We have drills for most foreseeable scenarios."

"Except a crew member waking up alone on a deserted planet."

"No, but NASA never drilled catching a crew member in space either."

* * *

Three days later, it turned out that Richard Watney was correct, his son had secured NASA's future, but there were strings. $5 billion was allocated to NASA to fund Ares V, VI, VII under the strictest condition that they prove there were safety and policy changes made to the Ares program. However, Congress attached some strings. Funding could be pulled by Congress at any given time if they failed to prove they were working on projects not dedicated to safety.

Most thought it was laughable because NASA does that anyway. Most credited Mark for pulling the rabbit out of his hat and yet some still thought it was a waste of money.

For a week, #gladwebroughthimhome and #Watneyforthewin trended on social media. The video of Mark testifying and the Senator's facial expressions were talked about on the late night talk shows.

Teddy Sanders, the director of NASA knew all about Mark's hypothesis. He also knew that Mark planned on bringing it up publicly for the first time when he testified before Congress and endorsed the plan along with Annie Montrose.

"What was so important you had to leave the table?" Olivia asked her son when his phone rang while they were eating dinner.

"Teddy Sanders," Mark said, with a wide-eyed grin. "He, uh, he wants to meet with me, Bruce Ng, Venkat Kapoor, and HR."

"That's great," Richard said. "What does he want?"

"I don't know," Mark answered. "If JPL is there, I assume it has something to with the Rover or HAB," Mark paused. "On the other hand, they could be handing me a bill for the damage I did to their equipment," he joked.


	5. Four Horseman

Mark craved routine. He craved the ability to think about something other than all that he'd been through on Mars. It had been a lot, a fact he'd admitted to his therapist.

He'd been back two months. He'd done everything the doctors asked or recommended. He'd done everything NASA asked of him, except a PR tour because he hadn't been up to it, and his doctors hadn't recommended he be away from home. Beck to the rescue, again.

A home was a concept foreign to him. He didn't have one. In the past his addresses had included: a bunk aboard Hermes, the only guy on Mars, a Peace Corps hut, University housing, and last but least, Mom and Dad's.

Even when he had been married to Lauren, he didn't really have a home that was theirs. They had rented an apartment and then a townhouse. They'd talked about buying a home; even went as far as settling on where they would live.

Upon his return to Earth, the lack of home situation was one that he intended to fix. He finally had the ability to make it happen.

He held in his hand the reason Teddy Sanders wanted to meet with him; it was a job offer. His official job title would be Consultant for Mars Operations. He would report only to Venkat Kapoor and have two assistants. He would be a consultant on everything including assembling the crew, training, and preparation for a surface mission as well as modifications to Mars Rovers, MDV, MAV, and any other equipment future astronauts would need. He could write protocol for Mars Missions. It came with a major pay raise, benefits, and a retirement package. He was essentially NASA's equivalent to a human Swiss Army knife.

It also came with one string attached, and it was more of a rope than a string. He would have to talk to the media. He would have to travel a lot to Pasadena and when news outlets requested a Mars expert, he would be the guy.

The travel wasn't that big of a deal.

It was the media. He'd done a good job thus far of not reliving the worst parts of Mars with the world, only discussing his deepest, darkest thoughts with his therapist, Dr. Shields. He'd done a few interviews with the crew and gotten away with a few Mars anecdotes that made people laugh. It was enough to answer their questions and move on to the next question.

The hard stuff, the anxiety, and depression that still lingered, the neuroses of checking and rechecking safety protocols, the permanent damage Mars had done to his psyche were not things he wanted to talk about with anyone. Least of which some half-rate news anchor looking to break Mark Watney for ratings.

"You're gonna take the job right?" Beck said, coming into his lab.

"Not sure," he answered. "Trying to finish my paper at the moment. What do you think of 'The Colonization of Mars'."

"Why wouldn't you?" Beck asked, keeping him on topic. "It's a great opportunity."

"There's not really a good reason not to, I just asked for a day to think about it."

Beck nodded, " I brought you this," he handed Mark a piece of paper.

Mark took it and opened it, "Are you serious, again?" He questioned. "What's wrong now?"

"Sorry. I can't approve it until your blood pressure stops acting like a yo-yo" Beck shrugged. "You're stuck using Uber or mom."

Mark sighed. "That really sucks," he paused for a moment. "Hey, this is a dumb question," He started, changing the subject because there was nothing he could do and it was no good arguing with Chris… "but have you ever met Mindy Park?"

"Mindy Park? That girl from SATCON who discovered you were alive? That _is_ a dumb question."

"Yeah, I know who she is. I met her just after we got back and I shook her hand and thanked her for everything she did, but I can't picture her face. I was so out of it, I can barely remember the first few weeks we were back."

"Why?"

"Dr. Shields thinks I need to seek people out individually and talk to them, thank them again now that I'm doing better. I've made my way through most of my list. I'm pretty sure Sanders, Kapoor and Ng know that I appreciate their work and if they don't know, how I feel. They certainly know how my mother feels."

Beck smiled, "Did Mama Watney bake NASA her famous Out-Of-This-World Brownies?"

"Yep, don't forget the 'from scratch' part."

Beck laughed, "They know, then."

"If I take this job," Mark continued, "it will give me a better ability to do that. I could also buy a house, stay in Houston."

"Why the hesitation?"

"The media part of this job," he admitted. "People don't need to know about the worst parts of what I went through," Mark continued. "They need to know that I listened to crappy music and read old books and grew potatoes. I just…the rest is between me and Mars and Dr. Shields."

Chris nodded, "Is that the only reason? And is that a big enough reason for you to not take this opportunity?"

"Well, that's why I asked for a day to think about it."

"Hmmm," Beck nodded, "Is that enough of a reason to turn it down?"

Mark could fix just about anything, but admitting he might need help fixing himself was way harder to say out loud than making water from scratch. Beck, more than anyone, was painfully aware of this. He'd seen Mark at his worst. For all of his ability to be the class clown, Beck could cut through that and make Mark be serious and make him confess what was going on in his head. He'd earned the right as his friend and crewmate to tell Mark when to cut the bullshit and be serious.

"I should go," Beck said.

"Why me?" Mark spoke up, stopping Beck from leaving the room. "Why was I worth saving? Why was I worth millions of dollars and a global effort? America and China can't sit down for a nice state dinner, but scientists can come together to save me? Thank you just doesn't seem to be enough. I can't ever repay that debt."

Beck looked at him meaningfully, "You know why."

Mark looked away not quite able to meet Becks eyes, "Yeah," he answered softly. "It doesn't seem like I'm enough to warrant all this."

"You fought so fucking hard to get off Mars, but now it's up to you to do what you do with that. Also," Beck cleared his throat. "On Mars, you're Mark Watney, Pirate King. On Earth, Space Consultant is almost as cool," Beck shrugged as he left.

* * *

"To Mark," Richard Watney held his glass up and toasted his son. "And his new job."

"Cheers," came the small crowd that had assembled.

"And a job that doesn't give me grey hair," his mother quipped.

The crowd laughed.

"Thanks, mom," Mark said

The previous afternoon, Mark had gone up to Teddy Sander's office and taken the job. They'd shaken hands and Teddy had told him that starting Monday he would have a new office next to Kapoor's overlooking Johnson Space Center. His first duty was to interview the candidates that HR was sending for his assistants and secretary.

He texted Beck to tell him he'd taken the job, who'd promptly organized a dinner that night with Johanssen, Martinez and the rest of the Ares III crew and their families to celebrate at a local restaurant. They'd even put Vogel on Skype and mounted the screen to the chair so it looked as if he was with them, referring to him as Vogelbot2001.

Just before arriving at a restaurant he'd stopped at an ATM and his card had gotten stuck in the slot. He'd had to wait with another customer for the bank employee to retrieve his card and then while the bank had called a repair person. While this would have been a mere inconvenience any other day, he was delightfully happy that he happened to be waiting with an incredibly gorgeous woman.

She was beautiful in the simplest of ways. She was tall, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, with little makeup and she wore a t-shirt and jeans and flats.

Mark tried very hard to be charming and funny, all the while enjoying the way her shoulder-length ponytail showed off the contours of her neck and the way her smile lit up her face.

She didn't do that thing that people did when they recognized him and act silly or ask for an autograph. Instead, they made easy conversation.

Then in a move that could be described as typical for him, he didn't get her number or her name.

She'd just have to be another one that got away.

"I think that's our exit," Olivia said when the check was paid. They'd shut down the restaurant and were going to a bar around the corner.

"You don't have to go," Lewis said.

"it's past our bedtime," Olivia said, putting her arm around Mark and pulling him in for a hug. "I'm proud of you, baby," she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

Mark always appreciated the way Melissa treated his mother. Before leaving, Olivia joked that Melissa was Mark's "space mother" and would certainly keep him in line. Now she just looked at the Commander with reverence. Olivia believed with a great conviction that The Commander saved her son and was the reason she had her boy home

"Yeah, Commander it's past their bedtime," Mark chimed in.

"How many times have I said to just call me Melissa?"

"And how many times have we told you it's just not right and you'll always be Commander to us." Martinez jumped in.

"Anyway, sweetie, have fun, be good," Olivia said, kissing Mark on the cheek. "Text us when you get home. And I will see you later Melissa. We'll have a canning party this summer," they hugged.

"He's staying with us tonight," Rick said.

"In that case, don't teach his liver to swim," Richard added, shaking Rick's hand.

"Bye mom, bye dad, thank you for coming," Mark said as his parents got into the cab that would take them home.

"I think I'm gonna go too," Rick's wife, Marissa, said. "Call me when you want to go home." She kissed her husband.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Beth asked, "That last glass of wine might not have been the best idea I've had."

"Of course," she responded. "Call me when you want a ride," Marissa kissed her husband.

The two women got into the car leaving Mark, Chris, Rick, the Commander and her husband, Robert, outside the restaurant.

"Where should we go?" Chris asked.

"Actually, you guys are on your own. I think we should go too," Melissa said, looking at her husband. "You boys have fun," she said as Robert called for a ride. "Congrats, Mark." They embraced. "If you ever need anything, let me know."

"Thanks, Comm…"

"It's Melissa," she poked him in the stomach. "You technically outrank me now."

"Okay. Melissa." he laughed.

"Let's go, sweetie," Robert said holding the car.

"So, Palapa's?" Beck asked. "We can walk from here."

"Let's go."

* * *

In retrospect, it had been stupid, the whole thing. From the moment Melissa left them.

Really, really, really, stupid.

Perhaps the third shot of what Rick called the "Four Horsemen', was a little more than just ill-advised.

Mark should have walked away from the idiot.

It just so happened that when the bouncer threw all of them out onto the street the local PD was there to witness the whole thing. Mark wasn't exactly sure how he ended up in the back of the cop car with Beck and Martinez. Nonetheless, there he was, cuffed in the backseat of the cop car, watching as a crowd gathered with their cell phones going.

The rest of the night was a blur, from taking mugshots and fingerprints to being put in a holding cell and puking in the one working toilet.

"You three are leaving," barked the guard after what seemed like a long time. "Go around the back to avoid the press," he said. "It was a pleasure meeting you," he shook Mark's hand.

"Well if it isn't The Fucking Wolf Pack," Melissa said when Rick, Chris, and Mark shuffled out of the building. The sun just starting to peak over the horizon.

"Melissa," Chris said in relief.

"It's Commander Lewis."

"Didn't you just tell us to call you Melissa?" Mark asked.

"I changed my fucking mind. What the fuck were you thinking?" she asked. " Do you know the mess you three have created? This is what people are going to wake up to," she held up their mug shots. "All-American heroes arrested after a night out. I hope you're proud."

"Can I just say…" Rick started.

"You asked what we were thinking," Mark pointed out.

"It was rhetorical, Watney. I know you weren't thinking." In fact, don't say a fucking word," She hushed them. "Get in the car before I leave your ass here. You reek," she said. "Roll down the window so my car doesn't smell like a saloon."

"Get in the back, Beck,.Idiots I pick up from jail don't get to sit next to me."

"I thought you called Beth to pick us up," Mark said to Chris.

"He did," Melissa interrupted. "She called me and after a back and forth with Annie, Marissa, and Olivia," she glared at Mark through the overhead mirror, "we decided I would pick you up and drop each of you off...you know like the cops do when you're a kid and you've been caught doing something stupid."

"My mother is gonna kill me," Mark muttered.

"My wife's gonna kill me," Rick said, his head in his hands.

"Oh, and boys," she looked at the guys in the back of her car through the mirror, "you have a meeting Monday morning with NASA lawyers at 0800," she sped off in the direction of Rick's house.


	6. No moping

After meeting with the lawyers, Mark went home. He was supposed to have started his new job today. He was supposed to be hiring his assistant and making travel plans to meet with the engineers at JPL, not sitting alone with the lights off and the TV blaring in his apartment.

They'd been charged with disturbing the peace and public drunkenness, both misdemeanors. Most likely they'd have to pay a fine. An infraction that usually made the news if a football player is stupid enough to get arrested before a big game. But now apparently 'hero astronauts' could be added to the list of reasons a public drunkenness charge is breaking news.

Sunday was spent hearing about the mess they'd made from Annie Montrose and a streaming continuous diatribe from wives, fiances, former crewmates, and even mothers.

The highlight of the yelling came when Olivia Watney scolded all three grown men while she paced back and forth and the three accomplished astronauts sat on the couch like they were teenagers getting home past curfew.

The cherry on top of the parade of stupid: Mark's father wasn't speaking to him. His father simply had nothing to say. The only other time Richard had been angry enough not to speak to his son was when Mark was rear-ended in his father's new Jag when he was in college.

His father didn't care that they'd been in an accident that wasn't his fault. He cared that Mark hadn't been forthcoming about where he was going with his date and had been downtown when the other car ran the red light and didn't see Mark stopping for Jaywalkers.

His father simply said that Mark was an adult and therefore had to face the consequences of his actions as an adult. "I'm sorry" wasn't enough. So to clean up the mess he'd made, Mark worked a full-time job and held a full schedule of classes to pay his father back. When Mark handed his dad the final check, they went fishing and that was the end of the cold war.

"Mark," his mother knocked on the door to his apartment.

"Come in," he said.

"How was your first day?" she asked when she'd walked in the room. "I came over to drop off a new suit. Now before you say anything, you have an important job and you need a suit."

"There's probably not going to be a job for me at NASA," Mark said, staring straight ahead, unable to meet her eyes, "because I could lose my security clearance."

"Hmmm, well, consequences," she pursed her lips and flicked on the lights.

"Look, I know we screwed up," he sighed, "You don't need to go into it again. But this feels excessive."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"If it's what were we thinking? No. Because I think you made clear already that we weren't."

"Cut the sarcasm, Mark. What exactly happened?" she asked, sitting down on the couch with him. "You've never told me how you three ended up..."

Mark cast his eyes downward, "It was stupid."

"Well, I knew that," she agreed. She looked up at him, expecting him to answer her.

"This guy…" Mark relented, clearing his throat, "he was drunk and he insisted I buy him a drink. He said that since his tax dollars went to save my life, the least I could do was buy him a measly drink. If it had been up to him, he would have just left me there to die."

"Idiot," she muttered angrily.

"Yeah, well Martinez says 'buy him a drink so he goes away' and then Beck says to the bartender to make it a virgin, which pissed the guy off."

"And that's why your lip is bloody."

"The bouncer jumped in and kicked all of us out," Mark trailed off.

"...backwater redneck mouth breathing Confederate flag pickup truck moron…" Olivia spoke under her breath.

Mark snickered, "Yeah, well when we got outside, he goes straight up to the local PD and says astronaut Mark Watney decked him and got him kicked out of a bar. We tried to explain that's not what happened but the cop just put me in handcuffs and the guy took off."

"But why arrest the three of you anyway?"

"Martinez got sick on the cop's shoes," Mark admitted.

Olivia stifled a laugh, "And technically, you were drunk in public and disturbing the peace." Olivia was nodding, now fully understanding the situation. "I think you weren't as dumb as I had originally assumed."

"Gee, thanks," Mark mumbled. "I'll take that as a vote of confidence. Would you mind telling dad?"

"Give him some time," she advised.

"There's video," Mark said. "People had their phones out."

"I've seen it," she told her son. "Plastered all over TV and the internet."

"I'm sorry, mom," he looked her.

"Don't be sorry Mark. I don't want your apology, I wanted you to not get yourself in the situation in the first place."

Mark looked away from her, "Yeah well, hindsight's 20/20."

"However," Olivia put a hand on his shoulder, "I don't think you're going to lose your security clearance. I also suggest you talk to a lawyer."

"I'm glad you're optimistic."

"This has nothing to do with my optimism." She studied her son for a moment. "There's more to this, though," she said. "This idiot, as you call him, bothered you."

Mark looked away. "Ummm," he stalled. "I…" he stuttered.

"He wasn't right," she said when Mark had fallen silent. "Nothing he said is true. You don't owe people anything because you're alive.

"I don't…" he swallowed. "I feel like I do. Especially for the people who gave up their life's work. I mean wouldn't it have been easier for them if I had died?"

"No," she answered quickly. "It would not have been easier. As someone who has always tried to figure out what the hell you were doing stuck in a lab all day, I just knew that I saw someone who had a single-minded determination to come home."

"You're my mother, you have to say that."

"I thought I lost my son," she looked at him, her lower lip trembling. "Then for a year and a half, I watched you fight to get home and not be able to help you. There is nothing I have to say. You know you're not gonna get a pity party from me," she said, leaning in to touch her forehead to his. "Okay?"

"Okay," he met her eye. "No pity party."

She kissed his forehead, "You'll still need this," she said, opening a garment bag and taking out a suit.

"Thanks," he said. "Engineers don't wear suits, Mother."

"You'll be the first. I'll let myself out; you have work to do."

* * *

Mark finished up the last of his paper on interplanetary farming. He was sending it for peer review the following week and still had to finish some of the citations.

He'd been unable to sleep after his mother came to visit, so he'd gone to his office at JSC to work and take his mind off his problems. He was used to planning for the worst, so it occurred to him that he may not be welcome in this building in the next few weeks.

He worked quietly, looking through botany journals, checking citations. It was tedious work meant to be handed off to an eager grad student, but it kept his mind busy.

Around 5 a.m. his stomach growled and he went to the nearest breakroom to find something to eat. As he turned the corner, lost in thought, he ran into someone, knocking her to the floor, scattering all the papers she'd been carrying onto the floor.

"I didn't see you," he said extending his hand. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm okay," she said.

He bent down to help her pick up the papers he'd spilled on the floor.

"Are you?..." he asked when he saw her. "...I've met you before..."

"Yeah," she smiled at him.

"I'm Mark," he said extending his hand. "I was hoping I'd meet you again."

"I've met you before," she said. "I'm Mindy Park."

"Mindy Park from Sat Con?" he smiled his brightest smile.

"And the bank."

"It's nice to finally meet you."

She looked at him questioningly.

"I mean, I know that we have met officially. NASA did this whole 'meet the lost astronaut' thing, which I barely remember. I've been wanting to meet you…re-meet you. You know, when I wasn't coming home from another planet and experiencing earth's gravity..." he faded off, suddenly realizing that he'd been spewing word vomit.

She raised an eyebrow chuckling at him, "Really?"

"Yeah...you know, to thank you for saving my life."

"You did that already, several times. You and your mother, the first time we were introduced," Mindy smiled at him. "Your mother brought me over like three drinks.

Mark chuckled, "That sounds like her. Those first few weeks back… well… I don't remember much of them."

"You've said that," she said as he handed her the last of the papers.

"I should go," he said when his stomach growled.

"The microwave in the breakroom is broken," she spoke up. "You would think with all the engineers on this floor, someone would have rigged something, but it's been broken for months," she continued. "You should use the one on the third floor near Mission Control. They always have the best food."

"Oh," he said.

"I can show you where it is," she offered. "I'm headed there right now."

"Okay, sure, show me the way," he smiled. It's not like he didn't know where the third-floor break room with all the goodies was kept, but who was he to argue with a beautiful woman that wanted to show him the way? Her hair was down, framing her face. She wore the engineer standard outfit of a t-shirt and jeans.

"So," Mark said, hoping to gain back some of the ease he felt when he first met her, "are you usually here this late? Or early... I guess it would be early."

"I'm working on a project right now."

"You're not at SATCOM anymore?" Mark asked.

"Oh, no, I'm still there. This is in addition to my usual job duties," she paused as they got onto the elevator. "I developed a way to get satellite transmission time down to under four minutes while you…" she paused.

Mark pressed the button for the third floor. "…You were the satellite watching me."

"Actually it was satellites," she emphasized the S. "I had authority over all of them."

"I knew I needed tin foil," he joked as they stepped off the elevator.

She chuckled as he followed her down the hallway.

"I'm presenting at a conference in a few weeks. I have a funny sleeping schedule, so it just makes sense to be here."

"Yeah, I understand that," Mark agreed. "Haven't really slept well either."

They reached the empty cafeteria where Mark found ramen to eat and Mindy warmed up her leftover pasta.

"It's not the amount that gets me, It's the constant rotating hours."

Mark looked at her questioningly.

"Because Mars has thirty more minutes of daylight."

"Yeah?"

"So, I slept when you did."

"I've been off Mars for almost a year."

"I still haven't fallen into a normal sleep pattern."

"Oh," he said, looking away, playing with his fork and willing his noodles to soften.

"It just means I spend a lot of time here," she continued. "Have you ever seen the sunrise over the lake?" she asked.

"I don't think so," he answered.

"Follow me," she said, elevator up the fifth floor and out onto the top of the building.

"I used to come up here a lot. Sometimes I'd be too exhausted to drive home so I'd eat up here to get a second wind," she said. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," he answered succinctly.

"Am I talking to much? Do you just want to eat in peace? I can go if you want me to."

"No, I don't...I don't want you to go. Keep talking, please," he said as the sun shone through the horizon. He swallowed, "I, uh, tend to get quiet when I've been in the lab for too long. I… I'm still wrapping my mind around you changing your work schedule for me."

"I couldn't do anything to help you."

"Funny," he smiled sadly, "my mother said the same thing recently."

Mindy laughed, "Your mother is something else."

Mark smiled but stared ahead, shielding his eyes as the sun got higher in the sky. "Yeah, she is.

"I doubt I'll be around to enjoy this again."

"What, are you dying?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

"No," he laughed. "My career is though."

"You're talking about this weekend," she said with a half grin.

"You've heard about our Animal house night?"

"Everyone has. But have you seen the news?"

"Recently? I've been told to avoid it. I've been here since yesterday."

"So then you don't know?"

Mark didn't say anything, so Mindy continued, "Someone put the video online from inside the bar with a drunk moron demanding you buy him a drink and punching you."

"Really?"

"And when the video went viral, the Galveston County DA said in light of further evidence, he was dropping the charges against you, Beck, and Martinez. The local sheriff pulled an arrest warrant for some guy name Peter Winston for filing a false police report and assault."

"This is a joke."

"It was on the eleven o'clock news. Someone didn't try to get a hold of you?"

Mark turned his phone on, he had fourteen missed calls and several text messages.

"I should probably answer these," he said, heading toward the door. "Thank you," he paused. "For everything. Finding me and watching over me and being aware of the local news and you're right about the view," he said looking right her. "It's beautiful."

She smiled at him, "I'll see you around, Mark."


	7. Hemlock Tea and the CNSA

_Two months later_

His official logs were being published in a printed book.

Annie Montrose had been putting some pressure on Mark to write a book. He'd refused, saying that he wasn't a writer. She'd offered to hire a ghostwriter. Mark didn't even return her phone call.

Finally, after a lot of back and forth, he'd reluctantly agreed to release the logs. He wrote an introductory chapter and a small chapter at the end. Part of the book was twitter and blog posts from people who followed the story and compiled by NASA to reference the date back on Earth.

The dedication read: _There's supposed to be a dedication here, I'm not coming up with anything worthy._

 _Oh yeah…_

 _Thanks, Mom…for everything_

Olivia rolled her eyes and laughed at him.

He made the rounds on the various talk shows. Everyone wanted to analyze his logs. Experts were calling it the most important scientific documentation ever created.

Others criticized Mark for not discussing his mental state.

"I didn't feel the need to," he countered when the topic was brought up in the interviews. "I think the act of making myself keep a log was what kept me sane."

He got questions that seemed trivial: "Where was your media stick?"

"Martinez and I agreed we weren't going to take anything because we didn't want to be distracted while on the surface and because we were on Mars and that was entertaining enough." Then in a deadpan answer, he'd joke that he wasn't ever going to listen to Martinez again. It usually got a laugh from the host and the crowd and on occasion when the whole crew was being interviewed Martinez would remind everyone that it had been Mark's brilliant idea in the first place.

They asked questions that others wondered about and his answers surprised: "Did you consider going to the other Ares sites?"

"My plan was to drive to Ares II if recovering Pathfinder failed, but I considered it a Hail-Mary plan because of the distance."

"So, what's next?" the interviewer would usually ask. That was when Mark would talk about Ares V. He'd talk about the crew and the training. Carefully avoiding the giant glaring problem of how to honor the promise they'd made to the CNSA.

The simplest course of action would have had the original Ares IV crew become the Ares V crew. However, In the three years since the Ares IV crew had been assembled, Astronaut and engineer Dr. Sarah Stride was offered tenure at MIT while doing groundbreaking research on nanotechnology and didn't want to leave her work. She was easily replaced from NASA's pool of qualified of astronauts.

Then Commander John Baker was diagnosed with cancer and replaced by Commander Andrew crew wasn't the same and it was painfully obvious to Mark and basically anyone in the room with the crew.

It was only a matter of time before another crew member would need to be replaced, but not because of life circumstances, but because the crew just wasn't coming together. There was no unifying force. No one bothered to make the team, a team. That had been Mark's defacto job, the very reason he'd won the job on Ares III. But now there was the added promise that NASA had made to the Chinese in exchange for the Taiyang Shen and someone had to lose their job.

"This isn't working," Mark said one afternoon. "They aren't…" he paused.

"I know," Venkat said, standing next to him.

"I've been learning Chinese," Mark said.

"For what?" Venkat asked, looking at Mark sideways.

"Because the Chinese saved my life. I'm sure their astronaut will know some English. But can they have astrophysical conversations in English?"

"Who do you want to replace?"

"Doesn't matter, but we need to bring the Chinese astronaut over soon so that the crew can gel. Vogel had to do the same. It's time."

"They sent word today that their astronaut has been chosen. His name is Chen Li Jie, he's an engineer and military pilot."

"Was that the guy that taught physics from Shenzhou?"

"No, that was his father though."

Mark nodded, "So when do we leave?"

"Soon. This has to go through Teddy first. Until then, we need to do another full evaluation of the crew." They were silent for a minute. "Happy anniversary."

"It's one I'll never forget."

"Me either."

It was the one year anniversary of his rescue from Mars. Mark knew he didn't want to be alone that day. He wanted to spend the day with the five people who had been there that day. Vogel was flying into Houston for the week.

Mark made a deep-dish pizza for everyone for lunch with fresh produce from the garden he'd started.

"Are you _ever_ going to let me drive?" Mark asked Chris as they climbed into Rick's SUV.

"Nope," Beck popped his P. "Not until your blood pressure stabilizes. Where are we going anyway?"

"I want to show you guys something," he answered simply, inputting the destination into the navigation system.

From the restaurant, they drove for only fifteen minutes, never leaving the site of Clear Lake. A long twisting road ended in a dead end blocked by a gate. There were no other houses around them, only long-abandoned boat piers.

"Did you bring us out here to kill us?" Chris asked. "LIke the ultimate revenge? Lull us into complacency and then when we aren't looking take us all out to the middle of nowhere…"

"Would you shut up," Beth poked her fiancé.

Mark got out of the car and unlocked the gate. "It's okay to drive through the gate. If I was going to murder you, I'd have given you hemlock tea or put death cap mushrooms on your pizza." Mark joked.

Rick drove through the gate. He followed along the driveway until the property cleared to a large open space with nothing on it but a work shed.

"So?" Beth asked.

"I signed paperwork yesterday," Mark opened the car door and stood on the overgrown grass. "We're standing on what will eventually be my house."

"So we're celebrating you buying land, and not being with you on the anniversary of…" Alex asked?

He pulled out a set of blueprints from the bag he'd been carrying. They looked through the papers. "And this," Mark said.

"Did you do this?" Alex asked, looking at the plans for Mark's new home.

"Yeah, a long time ago. I finally found a place where I could see that house on the property," he answered.

"The house is beautiful," Beth said, looking through his plans. "And it's all solar?"

"That's the idea," he showed them his plans for a garden and the hydroponic system he planned on using.

"I finally understand why botany and engineering is useful," Martinez jabbed.

"I still don't know why you're here," Mark joked.

Melissa pulled out a champagne bottle and handed glasses to everyone.

"To the craziest cowboy rescue in the history of manned spaceflight," Martinez cheered. "And we all expect fresh veggies from Mark's garden."

They clinked glasses.

Mark would remember that day for the rest of his life. Every year, the crew would find a way to acknowledge the anniversary. Sometimes together, sometimes apart, but always connected in some way. A lot would change for the crew, but never their bond or the memory of that day.

"There's another reason I brought you all out here," Mark started. "A team at JPL has been working on a new radio that could go on the rovers and will be able to communicate with HAB computers and NASA. But it needs to be tested in a secluded environment. The official test is next week. This is my favorite version and I wanted to test it."

"And you can do that because you're basically in charge of Mars," Martinez joked.

"So you brought us out here to play walkie-talkie with you?" Beck asked as a smile played on his lips.

They spent the day testing the new equipment, running around the five acres that would eventually be Mark's new home.

"So you're leaving for China next week?" Beth asked as they drove back to the city.

"Me and Venkat."

"Still learning Chinese?"

"Shi," Mark answered.


	8. Sunrise

"How long has that been going on?" Venkat asked as the sun peeked through the horizon.

"They've been out there every morning this week," Mia Hall, Mark's new assistant answered. "He left me a message last night that he couldn't sleep and he was coming to work."

"Really?" They both heard Mindy Park's laughter through the window. "He's probably been going over the new safety protocols all night. Make sure he gets to sleep. I need him sharp for the trip to China."

"Copy that, sir."

"But," he said looking at Mark and Mindy through the window, "that's good news. I hope they're happy"

"Me too, sir," Mia said, not following Venkat.

"Mark," she knocked on the window and pointed to her watch. "Phone conference in twenty minutes."

He nodded in understanding, excusing himself from Mindy. A smile was barely visible on his lips. She handed him a coffee.

As the day wore on, Mark's thoughts drifted back to the morning. He'd found himself in Building One overlooking the lake every morning that week and the week before that. His sleeping pattern had taken a turn for the worse. His dreams were getting weird and sleeping was becoming something of a chore. This had happened to him when he was first rescued. That was when the shrinks had first mentioned PTSD.

Lately, though, his dreams had nothing to do with Mars. They were about Lauren. She was getting married soon. His dreams were about the life they'd never fully realized. The house, the family,all of what they had wanted but never got to have.

It was a relief; it wasn't Mars that was fucking with his head this time, and he could still count on Lauren to screw with him. The difference was that Mark had gotten better at seeking help. He'd built up a relationship with Dr. Shields and they were covering things that had nothing to do with Mars.

"Can you make an appointment for me as soon as possible to see Dr. Shields?" He asked Mia as they walked to his office.

He'd made a deal with Mindy. They had both agreed their sleeping pattern wasn't normal and they should both probably be under the care of a doctor. So as much as the little ritual of watching the sun rise over NASA had become their daily routine, they both knew it wasn't healthy.

Mia nodded and went to call Dr. Shields.

"Dr. Watney," she said over the intercom, "Dr. Shields can see you this afternoon at two. Your schedule is clear."

"Okay," he said, not looking up from his screen, stifling a yawn. "Can you bring me another coffee before the conference call starts?" he stifled another yawn. "Mia," he pressed the intercom again, "My father is Dr. Watney, please just call me Mark."

* * *

Mindy sat at her desk.

What was she thinking? Falling in love with Mark Watney?

It was stupid. _She_ was stupid.

Rumors were going to fly and someone would inevitably call her an Astro Bunny after an MRS.

But he made her laugh, and she looked forward to seeing him every morning. In the media, he was larger than life. The guy that had lived on another planet. The space hero. The colonizer of Mars. He _was_ all those things, but to her, he was just Mark. The nerdy botanist who made silly jokes and made her laugh.

How was he not taken? How had someone let him go?

He'd been a dedicated scientist who had probably focused on his career. She understood it; she was just barely thirty and you don't get to work at NASA before thirty while maintaining a personal life.

She was falling hard and fast.

She hadn't ever adjusted to a normal sleeping schedule. She could go days on minimal sleep, a skill she had picked up in grad school and perfected while at NASA. That morning she and Mark talked about it and promised to seek help for their collective sleeping issues. She kept her promise and made an appointment with her doctor. She also called a friend who worked for the Human Research Program to see if she had an idea on how to stop sleeping like she was on Mars.

She'd published her paper on satellite transmission time. There was a rumor of a raise and promotion. She'd already taken a promotion to the day shift and been given the harder assignments.

"Haven't seen you in a while," Venkat said, sitting in the chair he'd often sit in as she watched Mark during his trek to the Schiaparelli Crater.

Mindy looked up from her work. "You don't have a reason to visit me."

"The space paparazzi snark hasn't changed."

Mindy laughed. "Neither has my sleeping routine."

"Are you close to a lunch break?"

"I was thinking a cheeseburger sounded good."

"Let's go. I'll drive."

"I see you've become close with our space pirate," he said as they sat down to eat.

Mindy stiffened, "Are you speaking as my friend or my boss right now?" Venkat was her superior; she regarded him as a mentor and friend. He'd vented to her a few times about some of his marital problems stemming from his working day and night.

"At the moment, your friend. It's none of my business in either position," he said. "However, I think you two have a lot in common; probably more than you realize."

"But it's a horrible idea," Mindy supplied.

"I'm not here to advise your love life. Just wanted you to know that as far as it concerns NASA, there is no conflict of interest. You're in separate departments and he really has nothing to do with SatCon."

She nodded, "If I want to leave SatCon?"

"Do you?"

"No," she answered quickly.

"Good," he said. "Because doors will open for you and I'm telling you that as your boss."

"Is it that obvious?"

"It's very obvious that you two have your own gravitational pull."

* * *

"Working late or couldn't sleep?" Mark sat down next to Mindy as the sun peeked through the horizon.

"I just got here," she took a sip of her coffee. "You?"

"I've been working all night."

"I'm leaving for China in a few days so it's pointless to attempt a regular sleep pattern when I'm gonna be in another time zone."

"Oh," Mindy said, considering his logic.

"But, when I get home, I'll be taking the sleeping pills Dr. Shield prescribed."

He didn't want to tell anyone that dreams of his ex-wife were haunting him. Abandoned on Mars was a better excuse to see a therapist. It was so much easier to let people think he was in therapy for that than dealing with the one-night stand he'd had with his ex-wife shortly after returning home.

Mark would rather make a person laugh than have a serious conversation or show any vulnerability. Now that his logs were public knowledge, that was the number one complaint. He excused it as thinking he would not be around for people to critique what he wrote while trying to stay alive on another planet.

He dropped some of his masks during his recovery process with Dr. Shields. His treatment for PTSD required him to be vulnerable.

As he got to know Mindy, he wanted to talk to her, tell her more of what was going on in his head. He wasn't sure if that meant anything or how to even talk to someone who wasn't a trained psychologist.

She'd seen him at his worst from forty-three million miles away,and she was the reason NASA knew he was going to Pathfinder. NASA could assemble a team so that when Pathfinder worked, someone was on the other end. She was the reason he could sit on this balcony at NASA and watch the sun rise over the horizon.

There was more though; he was certain he was falling for her, head first off the deep end. From the moment he's seen her at the ATM, there'd been a connection and their friendship was the icing on the cake. It scared the shit out of him because It'd been too long since he'd felt this strongly for another person

Mindy smiled, "Good. Don't you have a hard time with sleeping pills?"

"It's not a strong dose."

"I hope it works."

"Me too," they paused as the sunlight filled the sky. "Beck thinks the reason I had such a weird reaction is that I wasn't eating a lot. I probably should've taken a half dose or something."

"Oh, I guess that would do it," she looked down at her watch. "I should get going."

"I should too," he got up, picking up his coffee and walking to the door. They reached for the door at the same time, their hands meeting and heartbeat quickening at a mere touch. He wanted to lean in, take her in his arms and kiss her.

Mindy smiled at him and got into the elevator going to the ground floor while he went up to his office prepared to spend the day in meetings, vowing to find out if wanting to kiss her was real.


	9. Lunchtime

A/n I owe a lot to my beta Ace...she's wonderful!

Johnson Space Center is home to a lot of smart people. However, during lunch in the cafeteria, the smart people might as well be back in high school. There's a table for nerds, jocks, outcasts, and hipsters. Except at NASA, the nerds sit at the cool kids table (astrophysics _is_ awesome). The popular kids' table is where the astronauts sit together as a team, because they get to go to space and everyone wants to be them. The Ares astronauts are the varsity, all-state champions and winners of the academic decathlon.

During their time training for their mission, team bonding generally fell on Mark, especially when they were all a little stressed out and needed to think of something other than all the ways that Mars could kill them. So to cut the tension, he'd dare Martinez or Beck to do something stupid and that would get everyone else going, which would lead to a video going viral, followed by either the side-eye from Annie Montrose or an eye roll from Commander Lewis.

Nearly three years later, if Mark ate in the cafeteria, he'd have to sit at the outcast table reserved for upper management. Most days, he'd avoid the entire thing and ask his assistant to get him a sandwich and he'd eat at his desk.

He'd been all over the news for the last week while he was in China, and he was looking for a little peace. However, the Starport Café was serving sweet potato fries and chicken tenders, and Beck said that he should be eating 2,500 calories a day, and Mark wasn't one to go against doctor's orders.

Standing in line, he paid for his food and started back to his office.

"Join us," Beck said, getting Mark's attention.

Mark sat at the table, along with Johannsen and Martinez.

"Do I see sweet potatoes?" Martinez asked. "Should someone alert the media that the great Martian pirate king is eating potato again?"

"These are sweet potatoes and they are fried. Big difference."

"A potato is a potato," Martinez argued, a playful grin on his lips.

Mark glared at him.

"You're gonna get him started," Johannsen mumbled.

Mark picked up a sweet potato fry and put it in his mouth, "It's a sweet potato fry."

"It's a potato," Martinez shot back.

Johannsen rolled her eyes.

"No, it's Ipomoea batatas and is distantly related to the potato, like a second cousin twice-removed. It's fried. Meaning that it's gone through a chemical change."

"You had to get him going. It's not like I can just cut their comms," Johannsen laughed.

"Fried food is not a chemical change," Beck added.

Beck was only baiting him, and normally, he'd have taken the bait. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw a familiar figure enter the lunchroom. Karen Rhodes and Brandi Hollands, another NASA astronaut, sat down at their table.

Mark smiled at Karen, nodding hello. She did the same. It had been a few weeks since she came to visit him in his office. Her eyes were puffy and drooped on both sides. She wasn't wearing any makeup, which was odd for Karen. He'd normally make some comment about Pepper Potts, but he knew her well enough to know she wasn't in the mood to be teased.

"Hey, Mark," Brandi said. "How was China? Where's their takinaut?"

"China was great. Beautiful country."

"He's practically a rock star over there," Beck interjected.

"Is the whole thing about the Taiyang Chen true?" Brandi asked. "Are you really gonna help them put it into orbit?"

"I doubt it will happen," Mark shrugged. "But, if the funds were there, I'd love to see the Taiyang Chen go on its intended mission."

"Where's the new guy?"

"He should be in orientation now," Mark answered.

"Is he…" Brandi started, her cheeks reddening, "...I don't even know how to ask this without sounding like a horrible person."

"Just say it, 'cause it's on everyone's mind," Martinez urged.

"Is he any good?" Brandi blurted out.

"He'll be fine," Mark shrugged. "If Martinez can do it, anyone can."

"'Cause so many botanists go to space all the time."

"How many times did you go up, before you were chosen to go to Mars? I know Karen went once before, " Mark said, ignoring Martinez.

"I hadn't been up at all," Beck said.

"Neither had I," Johannsen said.

"I might go to ISS-2, next May," Brandi said.

"He's been twice," Mark said. "Once as the Commander."

"Oh." Beck shifted in his position.

"He's an engineer, military pilot and trained in Star City. He flew with the Russians to ISS before it was deorbited and will probably go to ISS-2 before he goes to Mars."

Everyone at the table looked away from Mark.

"I know there's been gossip, but now is the time to put a stop to it. He'll be just fine. And," Mark paused for dramatic effect. "He's fluent in Russian and German and is learning English, so there shouldn't be any reason that you can't understand him."

* * *

Later that day, Mark stood at Karen's office door. She held the title of Ares Mission Chief Engineer and as the fifth person on Mars, she was well respected. She was one of five women to hold a supervisory role for the Ares Mission and because she was the first woman on Mars, a lot of women in and out of NASA looked up to her. She represented a generation of women who wanted to work in the STEM fields and became leaders. It did not hurt that Karen Rhodes was stunningly gorgeous. The media called her "the model astronaut".

Mark peaked through the door. She worked quietly at her desk with headphones plugged into her phone. He snuck in quietly and sat down in a chair in her office.

"Good Lord," she exclaimed when she saw Mark. "You scared the shit out of me, Watney."

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Well, my heart rate is returning to normal."

"Not now. Something was bothering you when I saw you earlier."

Karen's chin quivered ever so slightly and she looked away from Mark. He saw the twitch of her ring finger, now empty, where the diamond ring had been when he had last seen her.

"Oh," Mark said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, "I walked in on him with another woman."

"Jerk," was Mark's immediate response. "He did you a favor and saved you from divorcing him, though."

"Except the wedding was planned, and I caught him after I could get all my deposits back."

"That... really sucks."

"I'm out thousands. I got a few partial deposits, but I still put out a lot of money and if I talk to him, I'm afraid I will kill him and dry ice his body and smash it to pieces."

"So, fuck it, have the party anyway. Call it ' The Karen Dodges a Bullet' party. Play darts with his face in the middle. It can be rather cathartic."

"It's that helpful?"

"Lighter fluid and matches are great, too."

"I don't have a place to hold it. I canceled the venue."

"Have it on my new property. They haven't broken ground yet. It's the perfect place and will require me to clean up so they can break ground, which is something I needed to do anyway."

Karen smiled, "Are you sure?'

"Yes, absolutely."

"Okay," she smiled at him.

* * *

A few weeks later, Mindy was in the cafeteria eating lunch. Since she wasn't an astronaut, she sat with her SatCon co-workers. Even at NASA, the table for the engineers at SatCon was for the unpopular kids. Since switching to days, it had become more of a thing that Mindy had to think about. Office politics weren't on her mind while she was trying to stay awake on the night shift.

Today, the astronaut's table was abuzz with some party they were planning.

"What are they up to?" Mindy elbowed Sarah, who was dating an astronaut candidate, though only one from the JV team. Sarah was also a notorious office gossip and as a receptionist in the astronaut office, she was privy to a lot of water cooler talk.

"They are planning a party for Karen Rhodes. She was going to get married, but she caught him cheating with some skank and canceled the wedding," Sarah said, in her distinct southern accent. "The man she was gonna marry wasn't worth the bullets to shoot him. I never understood why Karen fucking Rhodes even gave that man the time of day. She's got a chance with Mark Watney. They would make some smart babies. They'll probably get together now that she's single and his divorce is final."

"What do you mean?" Mindy asked.

"Oh, they had a fling after his divorce. They were gonna see where they stood after he came home from Mars, but that went all to hell. She met the guy just after NASA declared him dead."

"Mark's divorced?"

"Lauren Watney, that woman was wicked," Sarah continued. "But Mark would have bent space and time for her. Even after she cheated, he tried to make it work. I heard he wasn't a perfect husband, something about working too much. But I suppose you aren't doing too bad if a man wants to provide for you. I haven't met a perfect man, but I tell you Mark Watney is close."

Mindy rolled her eyes as Sarah prattled on and on, but Mindy tuned her out.

Mindy couldn't have cared less about his previous marital status. What bothered her was that Karen Rhodes was single and, apparently, had eyes for Mark. Many people had eyes for Mark, but Karen's were big and brown and attached to a woman that Mindy couldn't compete.

He'd pick Karen Rhodes over her. Any guy would.

She knew that falling for Mark was a mistake.

She knew better than to hope that they could be anything more than just friends.

Since he'd been home from China, they'd continued meeting in the early mornings to watch the sunrise over NASA. He'd kept to his word and was trying to get at least eight hours of sleep. He'd said Beck overruled him on taking sleeping pills and advised him to make a sleeping routine.

A few days after he got back from China, Mindy thought that he was going to ask her out, but then he got a phone call and he didn't get back to the conversation.

Mindy watched Mark and Karen. They would make a good couple.

"Hey," she asked Sarah, "When's this party."

"Next weekend."

"Who's invited?"

"I haven't heard anything, Karen knows a lot of people though."

"When you find out, let me know," Mindy ignored the astronaut table for the rest of lunch, a plan forming in her mind.


	10. Karen

November 2033

"I will meet the rest of the crew in a few days," Mark said as Karen rested in his arms and he idly played with her hair. "I've never these people and I'm supposed to go to Mars with them."

Karen chuckled, "Oh, you'll get to know them plenty, just wait," she closed her eyes and relaxed into him. "But I mean everything else is in order? You're about to get busy."

With boxes stacked up along the walls, clothes, and books scattered everywhere. "Mostly, I have to make another trip out to DC to get the rest of my stuff."

"Not just moving to Houston. You should have your affairs in order like you would if you were going to war."

"I figured," Mark yawned. "But I have time."

"Not really," she looked up at him. "Training starts Monday, you'll have one, maybe two days off a month between now and launch."

Mark looked down at her, shifting in his position, "I'm aware of all of this. The mission training manual is on the table."

"Mark," she said sitting up, she was level with him, the blanket barely covering her, "all of your affairs," Karen repeated slowly.

"Oh," he said. "I figured. It's just," he paused, "complicated," he said after a moment.

"It's still over?" Karen asked.

Mark smirked impishly, "I thought we just confirmed it's over."

Karen blushed, "That's hardly my point."

"It seems like a problem for future Mark to worry about."

"More like near-future Mark."

"Current Mark isn't worried about near future-Mark's problem either."

"Okay," she gave up, "But near-future Karen reserves the right to say I told you so."

"That's fine," Mark said, "Right now I want to hear you make that sound again?"

"Which one?"

A small tilt in the corner of his mouth and expanded into a full Cheshire grin, "I'll let you know," he kissed her, pulling her closer. He settled on one area only when she let out a gasp and laughed.

"Hey."

"Come in," Karen gestured not looking up from her computer. "Have you seen this?" she asked.

"No, what is it?" Mark sat in her chair.

"It's like that game Oregon Trail we played in school, except instead of getting to Oregon in a covered wagon, you have to go from Acidalia Planitia to The Schiaparelli crater in a rover."

"Your joking?"

"Nope," she moved her computer screen so he could see the game.

Mark rolled his eyes and grumbled something about have already done it in real life.

"Damn," Karen said as her character died on screen. "Alien attack."

Mark laughed, "well at least someone has a sense of humor."

"Some college kids programed the game for a CS final at Georgia Tech."

"That's ridiculous," he changed the subject. "Anyway, I came to tell you, we'll have water for the giant slip and slide, we'll use the bonfire to light the darts and tequila for the lemonade."

"Because when life gives you lemons, grab a bottle of tequila and flaming darts to make it better."

"Nothing like burning stuff down for catharsis after a broken engagement."

"Exactly, thank you for hosting this." She said barely able to say the words before her voice broke.

Mark was the same guy who left for Mars, but in so many other ways, he was a very different person.

Maybe their time didn't pass.

Perhaps it wasn't an issue of timing.

He was single.

She was single.

They agreed to see what happened when he got back.

He offered to throw her a party.

He flirted with her since the day they met and Mars hadn't changed that.

That had to mean something.

She was an expert in microbiology, machine learning, astronautical engineering and she literally wrote the mechanical engineering technical manual for the entire Ares program, but understanding what went on in a man's head, she was less than an expert.

She should be the one to make a move because she was the one who was engaged.

It wasn't about Mark.

He was sweet and kind and funny and he made her laugh. They should have been something.

She just...she had her reasons before he left.

Her ring finger felt strangely empty. She'd thrown the ring at Tom. It was hard to imagine how she was going to put her life back together after he'd broken her heart, but maybe there was a future with Mark, and maybe the timing was right now.

January 2034

"Hi," she kissed him as he walked into her apartment. She hadn't seen him in over a week and he only had sixteen hours before he had to report back and leave for survival training in New Mexico.

"You asked for 'anything that isn't made by a NASA chef,' so I made spaghetti and meatballs," she said as the door closed behind them.

"Thank you," he said between kisses. "That sounds great. Is it okay if I shower first?"

"Good idea," she joked.

Mark usually wasn't very talkative after a long day. He could barely keep his eyes open while finishing dinner. After eating, Karen and Mark retreated to the couch, where Karen massaged his back and shoulders.

"Make sure you keep up with your stretches," she warned. "I can feel a knot forming," she dug into his lower back.

"You sound like our flight surgeon."

"Listen to him, he knows what he's talking about."

They fell silent for a minute, "It's hard. The training is intense, but I'm writing the procedures for the entire Botany Department,"

"Well you're the first, so you get to make up the rules."

"Speaking of being first, what's with all the new modifications with the HAB and Ares?" "Guess who has to be familiar with all the new designs and how they work."

"LIke I said, when you're the first, you get to make all the rules. You'll be an expert soon enough."

They fell silent, she cleared her throat, "Have you talked to Lauren."

"We sign the paperwork next week," he mumbled, his eyes closed.

"Good, that's good. One less thing for you to worry about."

"Sure, I'll just watch a nearly fifteen relationship wash down the tub as I'm blasting off to another planet," he grumbled. "No problem."

"Yeah," she said, her tone terse, and she dug into his back deeper.

"That feels good," he said as she used her elbow. Karen held in what she wanted to say.

He had a lot to worry about, Karen reasoned.

She massaged his head until Mark closed his eyes and fell asleep.

It made sense.

Mark and the girl from SatCom.

She discovered he was alive. What an adorable story that would make. Such a twist on the typical love story:

Boy and girl don't know each other.

Boy gets stranded on another planet.

The girl discovers he is alive and is promoted at work so she can watch boy all the time.

Boy survives.

When the boy gets back to earth, they meet for the first time and realize they should be together and live happily ever after.

Mark wasn't the happily ever after type, Lauren took that from him.

They documented his sleep problems in abundance.

He'd done an interview a few months ago where he admitted to watching the sun rise over NASA because he'd been up all night.

The doctors tried a lot of different treatments, but Mark's vestibular system stayed consistent with Mars.

Mindy Park having the same issue was supposed to be just a rumor.

But it wasn't a rumor.

She'd seen them together watching the sunrise over NASA.

Mark was in love with her. She could see it in the way he looked at Mindy.

She saw the same looking on him the first time she met Lauren Watney. They were both graduate students interning for NASA at the Glenn Research Center. Lauren and Mark were dating and Lauren came to visit Mark for the weekend.

You could feel the electricity between them.

But Mark hadn't told Mindy he was love. Karen didn't need a doctorate to know Mark hadn't said a word.

February 2034

She knew what it could mean for her and Mark when she was offered the job.

Did it matter?

Commander Lewis was a hardass, but she had to be with Rick Martinez and Mark Watney on her crew.

Mark was skating on thin ice already. He had a hard time with physical training. "I'm a scientist and don't work out."

She wasn't even going to be his direct supervisor. It was what she dreamed about when she was a little girl making YouTube videos about how much she wanted to go to Mars.

Either way, she knew they would have to disclose their 'relationship to NASA HR department.

The more important question was did they want to do that?

They weren't supposed to be serious. She never felt like she needed a man in her life to complete her, but since coming home from Mars, she felt the need to leave something on this planet and Mars and the ink on Mark's divorce papers weren't dry.

Although Karen suspected they were teetering on needing to have that conversation because occasionally they acted a little like a little more than friends with benefits.

He wasn't leaving for Mars for another year, it wouldn't be crazy to have a relationship in that time. Studies showed that having something to come back to made a long-duration mission worth

And then there was the fact that for all the years she'd known him, Mark never really stayed in one place for long. He was getting two Master's degrees and a Doctorate, but the second he could get credit to for research somewhere else, he got on the first plane out of town. He'd done work on every continent.

Mark had wanderlust. He traveled the world in the name of science. His wanderlust would take him to Mars. Who knew if Houston would seem a little too suburban for a man who lived on Mars and rainforests and Peace Corps huts.

They met for dinner and he said exactly what she thought he would and it didn't bother her. She knew and so did he that what they had wasn't something that NASA had to know about. There would be time enough for them later.

"So on Monday, when you walk into work, we will be friends," Karen said. "No reason to disclose anything to NASA about our relationship."

"Yeah," Mark nodded. "We'll be friends."

"And when your home, we'll see what happens and if there is an 'us'."


End file.
